


Meet Cute

by girlygirl14534



Series: The Adventures of Amy [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bookstores, Coffee Shops, Eventual Stucky x Reader, F/M, First Meetings, Gentleman Steve Rogers, Height Differences, Meet-Cute, My First Fanfic, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, bucky barnes babysitting, meeting in the rain, meeting on the subway, steve rogers is always prepared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlygirl14534/pseuds/girlygirl14534
Summary: You’re just trying to check out a new bookshop. Only the weather’s not really cooperating. Thank God for handsome strangers and their umbrellas, right?
Relationships: Bucky Barnes & Morgan Stark, Bucky Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Bucky Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: The Adventures of Amy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903927
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	1. Meet Steve

The rain pounded the pavement. You struggled to see the directions on your phone as water cascaded down the screen. You took a moment to thank God for waterproof cases as you wiped your phone against your shirt to no avail. The sky had opened up out of nowhere and of course there were no awnings in sight. The residents of this street clearly had no regard for girls whose hubris prevented them from checking the weather before leaving the house.

You had schlepped all the way to Brooklyn to check out this new bookstore, and now you were poised to give up before you even reached your destination. The only thing that kept you going was the thought of being home; warm and dry, curled up with your new book, reading out particularly enticing paragraphs to your roommate, Liv, as she made dinner.

But right now you weren’t at home. You were standing in the middle of the sidewalk like a fucking tourist, trying to decipher the directions on your phone. As you struggled to read your phone screen, the downpour finally ceased. You looked up in amazement but were confused to see and hear the rain continue around you.

A friendly, commanding voice startled you. “If you need directions, I’m happy to point you the right way.”

You looked up at the self-assured grin of a beautiful man and his even-more-beautiful umbrella.

“I’m looking for Kitabu Booksellers?”

“Hmm, I don’t know that one. Must be new. Let me see?” He gently took your phone out of your hands and looked at the map. 

Your phone looked comically tiny in his hands. It was then that you remembered that you were supposed to be wary of strangers, especially in New York. You hoped he wasn’t trying to steal your phone. His tight t-shirt didn’t leave very much to the imagination, and with muscles like those you wouldn’t even attempt to run after him. 

“This way,” he said. He returned your phone and held the umbrella over you as he guided you in the right direction. Approximately thirty seconds later he was walking you inside. You both looked around at the cozy interior. The shop didn’t have the typical overhead fluorescents. Instead they had opted for dozens of lanterns and lamps throughout, giving the space a warm, almost romantic glow. 

“Wow,” the man said next to you. “The last time I was here this was a shoe store. I never could have imagined it would look this good.” 

You nodded politely. You were interested in talking to the helpful and handsome stranger, but you were also itching to wander the store and get your hands on some books. _Is there a graceful way to ask him to walk and talk?_ you asked yourself. 

“Well, I suppose I should let you go,” he said. 

“Thank you so much for your help...?” you said, hoping he would provide a name. 

You were finally getting a good look at him, and boy was he cute. The rain had mussed up his dirty blond hair in an endearing way and kind blue eyes looked back at you behind square-rimmed glasses. Looking at him now he kind of reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

He reached a hand out to you. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.” _Captain freaking America?! That's why you recognize him!_

You tried your best to return his firm handshake. You tried even harder not to get flustered by the fact that he held your hand for a little longer than necessary.

“Steve. Hi. I’m Amy. Amy Carlisle.” 

“Nice to meet you, Amy. Stay dry,”he said with a self-conscious chuckle. He turned slowly to leave.

“Wait! Steve?”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering… “ You gestured at yourself. “As you can see, I’m kind of vertically challenged, and the books I want to get always seem to be on the top shelf. Would you let me borrow your height for a few minutes?”

He laughed. “Of course!”

“I’m looking for the forbidden books: romance novels," you whispered conspiratorially as you started walking through the store.

He dutifully accompanied you, occasionally dodging a low-hanging lantern. “Forbidden, huh?”

“Yes. I have a penchant for books with scandalous content. I also engage in the shameful practice of dog-earing my pages and writing in the margins. Those are big sins in my line of work.” 

“What do you do?”

“I’m a reference librarian at the New York Public Library.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought librarians were supposed to be...”

“Old? Frumpy?”

He smiled. He had a nice smile. “Something like that.”

“Well, before you ask, I hate cats.”

He laughed as you approached the back of the store in search of the romance section, the number of patrons thinning out as you reached your destination. 

"Noted," he said. “A librarian that hates cats and defaces novels in her spare time. Is there some sort of Librarian Review Board I should be reporting you to?” 

“Weren’t you an international fugitive at one point? I don’t think you should be talking.” 

He laughed, conceding your point. “Fair enough. I’ll let it go this time.”

“This time? Is there going to be a next time?” 

“I sure hope so.”

You did a double take at his tone. _Was Captain America flirting with you?_ You were suddenly a little nervous under his gaze, and began perusing the shelf, absently fiddling with volumes. 

“As long as you promise not to snitch to the Librarian Review Board you’ve got yourself a ‘next time’.” 

He put his hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear I am not a snitch.” 

“Was that a Harry Potter reference?” 

“Yes. I know pop culture,” he said with a little bit of attitude. “I am a proud Gryffinpuff.” 

“I’m a Ravenpuff myself,” you said as you stood on your tippy toes to look at a book. 

“You know, my best friend is a Slitherpuff. Together the three of us are every variation of Hufflepuff.” 

“Slitherpuff? I haven’t heard that combination before.” 

“The two houses aren’t as opposite as you’d think. He’s both resourceful and hard-working, determined and loyal.” 

“I hadn’t thought about it like that. That’s actually really cool,” you said as you looked around for a stepladder. None in sight. “What would be cooler is if the tall, handsome man who promised to lend me his height actually kept his promise.” _Whoops. You weren’t supposed to say the handsome part out loud._

Steve’s face was the picture of amusement. “Handsome?”

You ignored him, getting back to the point of your earlier comment. “You are utterly useless. Are the Avengers paid with tax dollars? Because if so I’d like a refund.” 

He feigned hurt, clutching at his chest, which only drew your attention to how toned it was. Shirtless he’d surely be the perfect model for a romance novel cover. 

You continued, “Seriously! What if my cat was stuck in a tree? Would you just stand there?”

“Trick question. You hate cats.”

“Wow! My hypothetical cat needs saving and here is Captain America, making excuses.” You shook your head and tsked in mock-disapproval. 

He hung his head. “Allow me to offer my deepest apologies, noble citizen. I am at your service.”

“Good.” You pointed to a green book on the top shelf which he handed to you. 

After a quick perusal of the cover you shook your head, knowing you wouldn’t like it. You handed it back to him to replace. You took a few steps back to get a better view of the books that you wanted to get a closer look at. 

“It might be easier if I gave you a boost,” Steve said. 

“I don’t want to insult your strength but there’s a lot of books I want to look at and I’m heavier than I look.” 

He scoffed at you, leaning down and picking up the entire bookshelf with one hand before lightly placing it back down. He shot you a pointed look. Point taken. 

“Alright. I’m impressed. I’ll let you give me a boost,” you said.

He kneeled by your side and picked you up; his strong hands on your hips sparking impure thoughts. He hoisted you effortlessly onto his right shoulder. His right arm came up around your right thigh to steady you and you were surprised by just how balanced and secure you felt up there. The combination of the shop’s AC and your wet clothes had made you chilly, and his body radiated a warmth that you wanted to sink into. You snapped yourself out of it, focusing on the books. 

“Wow, it’s like a whole new world up here!” you said, only half-joking. It was nice to get to peruse all these books up close that had previously been out of reach. You prompted him to move left or right as you looked through the selection. 

“Am I getting heavy yet?” you said it teasingly, but you really wanted to know. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not going to get heavy.” 

You looked down at him, a strange vantage point. “Hey, I’m just trying to be considerate here.”

“Don’t make me lift this bookshelf again.”

You laughed, raising your hands in surrender. You turned back to the books and ended up picking out several before telling Steve he could put you down. 

“Y’know, I could get used to that method of picking up books,” you said as you walked towards the checkout. 

“Could you?”

“In fact, I might like to live my life from that vantage point. I can just sit on your shoulder and you can carry me everywhere I go.”

He put on his most patriotic voice: “Any way I can be of service. ”

“All we have to do is train you to respond to hair tugs like in Ratatouille.” 

Steve looked confused and you sighed. It was kind of an embarrassing reference to explain. “It’s a movie about a French rat that can cook.” Now he looked even more confused. “Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. We’ll watch it later,” you said, patting his arm patronizingly. 

He laughed. You were glad he could appreciate your often-sarcastic humor. But as much as you were enjoying hanging out with him, you couldn't wait to get out of the frigid bookstore. You understood the need for AC with the summer heat, but you were starting to shiver as you completed your transaction.

“Can I buy you a coffee?” Steve asked.

“I’d love that.”

You walked outside to find that the rain had let up but the air was still hot and muggy, which was actually a relief as it allowed you to warm up. You walked five minutes down the street to a coffee shop, talking about rainstorms the whole way. You had always loved them, while Steve shared that he had been scared of them growing up. 

“Aww. Don’t worry I’ll protect you,” you said with a condescending look of pity. 

“I’m not afraid _anymore_ ,” he pouted defensively, making you laugh. He couldn’t resist laughing too.

He opened the door to the coffee shop for you and the two of you stood in line perusing the menu. Being back in an air-conditioned space meant that you resumed shivering, and you internally cursed your anemia, swearing to get your iron levels up. You ordered a nice, rich hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream. You were normally a tea drinker, but with the way you were shivering? Lemon ginger tea with honey would not suffice.

You got your drinks and settled into seats in the corner of the half-occupied café. He was sitting on a loveseat, taking up most of it with his large frame, while you sat across from him in an armchair

Your drink looked delicious and there was a mountain of whipped cream and a dusting of cocoa just like you liked it. You did a little happy dance and then promptly stopped when you remembered who you were here with. Of course he had seen; you could see the laughter in his eyes, but thankfully it didn't travel to the rest of his face. Your mug shook a little as you brought it to your lips. You tried to get your shivering under control by taking a deep drink, which was very hot, and you promptly spit it back out. _Nice one, Amy. Very smooth._ Steve had definitely noticed that one, and the mirth in his eyes had transformed into a full-blown laugh. 

“I promise you that I am perfectly capable of drinking drinks and maintaining my body temperature like a functional human being. You just caught me on an off day.”

You took a deep breath and dramatically took a small (successful!) sip of hot chocolate. He applauded you and you wanted to be embarrassed but somehow you weren’t. You bowed your head in thanks for the applause.

He took a sip of his drink, which had taken a good five minutes for him to order considering all of the specifications he had read from his phone.

"How's your ...?" you gestured at his cup, as you didn't know if the complicated concoction had a name.

"Ferrero Rocher Frappe. I'm working through a very long list of recommendations. So far my favorite is dirty chai, but this ain't half bad. Way too sweet, but most things are these days. Would you like to try it?"

You figured what the hell. You normally wouldn’t drink after strangers but if you came down with mono at least you could tell people you got it from Captain America. You took a sip. “That’s amazing! I can’t believe that’s not a regular menu item. But you’re right, it is too sweet, and that’s saying something because I’m from the south.”

“Where are you from?”

“Atlanta.”

“I’ve only been once. During that dumb USO tour.” He shook his head and smiled, immersed in a memory. “I’ve heard Atlanta’s really cool now.”

“It is. And it’s got some great spots to add to your recommendation list. Is it only coffee shops?”

“Well, there are a lot of lists, but this is the coffee one.” 

"Do you have a definitive ranking of drinks you have tried so far? You should create a blog! You could have an email blast like Boyle from Brooklyn Nine-Nine! You could call it... there's something in there with Cap...uccino. Too on the nose?" 

He laughed. "You know, I've gotten a lot of offers to write books, do talk shows— hell, I've even given a few PSAs. But a coffee blog: that is truly original. And I actually think I've heard of that show you mentioned!"

"Brooklyn Nine-Nine? It's really good! You should watch it! When you get a chance, of course. I'm sure you're super busy and get like a thousand recommendations a day."

"Yes, but I'll be sure to put all of yours right at the top of their respective lists." That smile of his was trouble. 

You slowly finished your drinks, chatting about what this hypothetical blog would look like, as well as all of your TV show recommendations. He shared with you his top-secret, preliminary ranking of coffee drinks. You talked about how much coffee had changed since he first started drinking it during the war. The hot chocolate had brought your shivering under control, but you were still cold and Steve noticed.

“I wish I had brought a jacket, I’m sorry."

“There are other ways you could warm me up,” you suggested, speaking before you thought, thinking of how warm you had been on his shoulder. 

He looked a little shocked. You didn’t mean it like that! You just wanted to cuddle. Well, maybe not _just_ cuddle. But at this exact moment in a very cold and very public space that is all you wanted. You saw mischief in his eyes and decided to clarify.

“I meant a cuddle!"

"Yeah, sure, that's what I was thinking too."

"Seriously! Captain, you have a very, very dirty mind!”

"Captain, huh?"

"Isn't that your title?"

"Yes. And your captain orders you to get over here!" He patted the sofa next to him.

You both laughed as you crossed to his side and sat next to him. He put his arm around you and you instantly relaxed into his warmth. He smelled like clean linen and you wanted to curl up in his arms and take the best nap of your life. Taking a nap right now would probably be rude so you kept yourself awake by asking him questions about the USO Tour, like which city had the best crowd, and how many of the dancers he hooked up with. 

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Sure, it wasn’t.” 

He looked ready to argue his point when an employee came and collected your empty glasses, causing you to realize how much time had passed. You looked outside and things had definitely cleared up, but the sun had started to go down.

“Everything ok?”

“I’m out a little later than I anticipated.” You wouldn't make it home before it got dark. 

“Can I walk you home?”

“You could if I lived in this borough.”

“I have a car. Would you allow me to drive you?”

“Sure. As long as you’re not a serial killer or something.” 

“I solemnly swear I am not a serial killer.

You laughed. “Alright, let’s go.”

As you two walked to his car he gave you the official tour of his old stomping grounds: what businesses used to be where, where his best friend had lived, and all the places that he had gotten into trouble. You were seeing Brooklyn in a whole new light; his stories making the streets come alive. 

You got to the car and he accompanied you to the passenger side, opening your door for you. You thanked him for his chivalry and got into the car. When he got in the car he took off his glasses and started driving.

“No offense, but what’s with the hipster glasses?”

He laughed. “You'd be surprised what they can do for a disguise. Just walking down the street no one expects to see Captain America in ‘hipster glasses’. Keeps me from being recognized for the most part.” 

Driving home, conversation flowed easily as you looked out the window, appreciating the rare view of New York City from a car. The ride was over way too soon, and you were trying to plan out the least awkward way to say goodbye and hop out, hoping he was braver than you were when it came to arranging a second meeting. To your surprise he parked and got out of the car. He was at your door in a flash, opening it for you and helping you out. He walked you right to your front door.

“Got you back in one piece, see? Not a serial killer.”

“Unless this was a ploy to find out where I live. Then you could come back and kill me later. And because you’re Captain America, no one would ever suspect you,”you said, internally cringing at all the serial-killer talk. You were hoping he would ask you out and here you were, casually accusing him of being a murderer. 

He laughed."Dinner tomorrow? Maybe I can prove to you that I’m not a serial killer and you can prove to me that you can eat and drink like a— what was it?— functional human being?"

"I'd love that. Let me give you my number."

You exchanged numbers, and stood there a little awkwardly. You didn’t want to say goodbye for fear that you’d wake up from what was obviously a dream. He gave you a hug and you were enveloped for a few moments in his intoxicating warmth and scent, and both of you seemed reluctant to pull away. Eventually you separated and headed in your separate directions. 

"See you tomorrow, Amy."

"Bye, Steve!"

You floated on a cloud into your apartment.

"Find anything good?" Liv asked behind a skillet of caramelized onions.

"You are not going to believe this!" you said, slamming your books down on the counter.

"They had a sale?"

"Better!"

"Your favorite author was doing an impromptu signing?"

"Better! I met a really cute guy and we’re going to dinner tomorrow!"

“Stop! Tell me everything! What’s he like? What’s his name?” 

“His name is Steve. Steve Rogers,”you said casually. 

“That’s so funny. Isn’t that the same name as—”

“ _Captain America?_ ”you finished her sentence excitedly. 

She looked at you with huge eyes. “Stop!” she said, trying to make sure she was understanding your meaning.

You nodded your head, confirming her understanding.

"You're LYING!"

"No! I got lost and it was raining and he showed up with his umbrella and helped me find my way."

"Amy! Oh my God! It’s just like a rom-com!"

"Hold on, there's more." Liv was practically bursting with excitement and you were too. "I asked him to help me get books off of tall shelves—” 

"Brilliant."

“And afterwards we went and got coffee and talked and he drove me home.

"That is so sweet," Liv sighed. 

"He is the perfect gentleman, and we get along really well. But now I’m getting nervous for tomorrow. What am I going to wear? What am I going to say? I don’t know what I’m doing."

“Leave it to you to go on your first date ever with Captain America,” she said. “And just relax. You’ll be fine. He obviously likes you if he asked you to dinner, right? Just be your lovely self. As for wardrobe, we've been preparing for this day. Thank God you work half-day on Fridays so we’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to get you ready."

You took a deep breath. Liv always made you feel better. You spent the rest of the night dissecting your conversations with Steve and imagining what your date the next day would be like. 


	2. Meet Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re going to grab lunch and then head home and start getting ready for your date with Steve. That is until a handsome stranger loses track of the kid he’s babysitting on the train.

You nodded along with the rap music in your headphones, Migos’ beats and adlibs providing a layer of separation between you and the chaos of your commute. You were done with work for the day and heading to eat lunch before going home to get ready for your date with Steve. Every time you thought about your date that evening your stomach did a backflip, so you tried to distract yourself, turning up your music volume and looking around the subway car. You had always loved to people-watch, and the train provided the perfect opportunity for that. There was an old white guy reading a book. You strained to make out the title. _Are Prisons Obsolete?_ Interesting choice. There was a woman, about 30, with stunning dark skin and electric blue eyeliner that was just *chef's kiss*. 

_I wonder where she got that. Should I ask?_

_No. That would be weird, right?_

_It’s a compliment though, that’s probably not weird._

She noticed you looking at her and you quickly looked away, mortified. You looked down at your phone, pretending to look at something. 

_Alright that didn’t go so well. I’m sure Kiara knows where to get blue eyeliner. Would that look be too bold for tonight?_

_Probably. What did makeup look like in the 40s? How does Steve feel about makeup trends of today?_

_All I know is that if he disapproves of winged eyeliner then this isn’t going to work out. How “traditional” is he, anyway?_ _He seemed to take offense to any assumptions that he was stuck in the past, but he has to be a product of his time in some ways, right?_

As you pondered these questions you decided it was safe to look up from your phone again, and your gaze fell on a father-daughter pair standing up to get off at the next station. You could only see their side profiles, but they had the same curtain of dark hair. They were holding hands and she was smiling up at him. You couldn’t help but smile too. In the girl’s other hand was some sort of plastic red toy. She was very cute. And her dad wasn’t bad either. You normally liked your men clean-shaven, like Steve. But this guy was rugged and bearded and it was doing something to you.

Your appraisal was interrupted when the train screeched to a halt at the station and passengers clamored to the doors. When the doors opened the father led his daughter off the train amid a rush of harried businesspeople and tourists in wrinkled clothes. The toy was knocked out of the girl's hand and she turned back for it, reaching, but was tugged forward by her dad. You hurried forward and picked it up, realizing it was an Iron Man action figure. You searched the crowd for the girl so you could return the toy and suddenly she appeared. She had broken free from her dad to come back for the toy and smiled gratefully at you as you held it up to her. 

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please,” came through the speakers and you looked up in panic, knowing you only had a few seconds before the doors closed. 

You looked up to find her dad and you saw him looking for her, spotting her and you as the doors began to close. He made it to the doors a few seconds after they closed, hands reaching out in a flash and hitting the doors, leaving a dent. You looked up in surprise at the face of a man who could damage metal with his bare hands and instantly recognized it. The Winter Soldier looked on in horror as the train started to pull away. You pointed down the track and mouthed to him to meet you at the next station. As you sped away, you desperately hoped he had understood your message. 

You kneeled next to the girl, handing her the doll. “Hey sweetheart, what’s your name?”

“Morgan,” she replied.

“Morgan, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Amy. Nice doll you have here.”

“Thanks! It’s my dad.”

“Oh. Ok, well— Wait. You’re Morgan Stark?” You had initially assumed the man and girl were father and daughter, but now you were realizing that was not the case. 

“Yep.” _Iron Man’s kid. Casual._

“Who was that you were with?”

“Uncle Buck.” 

“Well Morgan, silly Uncle Buck got off at the wrong station, so we’re gonna meet him at the next one, ok?”

“Ok,” the girl smiled. 

You arrived at the next stop and made sure you had a tight grip on Morgan’s hand, and that Morgan had a tight grip on her dad. You disembarked without incident and sat with her on the cleanest part of the bench. You glanced anxiously at the monitor that told you that the next train (which was hopefully carrying Bucky) was 3 minutes away.

“So, Morgan, where were you and Uncle Buck headed?”

“Cheeseburgers!”

“Cool! I was on my way to get a cheeseburger too. They’re my favorite food!”

“Me too! You should come with us!”

“Oh, no, I don’t think—”

“Come on! Uncle Buck will pay!”

You laughed. “Free food is always good,” you said noncommittally, more worried about getting her reunited with Uncle Buck in the first place. 

You heard a sound coming from down the tracks. It was getting closer. You glanced at the monitor. There were still 2 minutes until the next train was due to arrive. You sincerely hoped it wasn’t some alien assassin come to murder the trueborn spawn of Tony Stark or something. A blur ran down the tracks, vaulted onto the platform and rushed at you. You got up and instinctively stood in front of Morgan to protect her. When the blur stopped in front of you, you recognized it as Bucky, and sincerely hoped that he didn’t think that _you_ were some alien assassin come to murder the trueborn spawn of Tony Stark or something. He held his arms out to Morgan, and she gladly ran around you and gave him a hug. Bucky was still looking at you warily so you stuck out your hand.

“Hi. I’m Amy Carlisle. Librarian and returner of lost children,” you smiled at him, hopefully assuring him you were an upstanding citizen who meant Morgan no harm.

Bucky looked at your hand suspiciously before shaking it. “James.”

“Uncle Buck!" Morgan interjected. "Amy’s coming to lunch with us!”

“Morgan said cheeseburgers are on you?” Your tone was playful, leaving room for him to politely decline, as he still seemed unsure about you. To be fair, you weren’t really sure about having lunch with him either. It was obvious you were just trying to help, so why was he being so standoffish? 

Bucky looked between you and Morgan. “Is that right?”

“It is," you replied. "And I think one cheeseburger is a small price to pay to buy my silence. One burger and I promise I won’t tell Iron Man that you left his kid on the train," you joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

He studied you before deciding on a smile. “You deserve a million cheeseburgers for looking out for her. Thank you. And I would really like it if you joined us.” _Now, that’s more like it._

“It’s no problem. And let's just start with one cheeseburger. Where are you going, by the way? Best burgers are 3 stops down.”

“Morgan loves Five Guys, so we’re headed there. That ok with you?”

“Perfect. Their burgers are definitely Top 5. And it’s a beautiful day so maybe we should walk instead of risking the train again?” 

He chuckled softly. “Sounds good.”

And so, somehow, you found yourself walking through the streets of Manhattan with the Winter Soldier and Tony Stark's kid. In contrast to yesterday, the sun was softly shining and there was a light breeze. There was the added bonus of seeing the world through Morgan's eyes. Everything was a wonder to her, and her innocence captivated both you and Bucky. You noticed each other watching her at the same time, and smiled at each other. Before long you were at the restaurant.

When you sat down with your food Morgan busied herself with burying her fries in a mound of ketchup and mayonnaise before fishing them out and sticking them in her sandwich. Morgan was so focused on making a mess that she paid no mind to you and Bucky, leaving you time to talk. 

“So, Uncle Buck...” you teased, trying to start a conversation.

“You can call me James.”

“Not Bucky?”

“Bucky is what my friends call me.”

“Ouch.” You feigned hurt.

“Hey, we just met. I don’t even know your middle name. Your favorite color. What your childhood was like. Things that friends know about each other.”

“Fair. My middle name is Rebecca, after my paternal grandmother. My favorite color is purple. My childhood was pleasant. Boring. Nothing that left any lasting scars; just a little lonely. Books filled the void. There. Now it’s your turn."

“My middle name is Buchanan, which is where Bucky comes from. My favorite color is green. My childhood was fun. My best friend and I found a lot of ways to get into trouble.”He smiled at the memory.

That’s right. His best friend. Steve. Who you were going on a date with tonight. Should you mention it? Steve obviously hadn’t mentioned you to Bucky, otherwise Bucky would have recognized you, right? Had Steve _not_ spent all of last night describing you in detail to his friend and dissecting every line of conversation? It was probably best not to mention him for now.

“That’s awesome. I was a fairly mischievous child on my own; I can only imagine what I would have been like with a partner in crime.”

“Trust me, he was more of a pain in the a—” His eyes quickly darted to Morgan before changing his language. “butt. Pain in the butt.” Morgan looked up and laughed at the mention of butts before going back to her food.

"Well since books filled the void it sounds like your partners in crime were probably Nancy Drew and Junie B. Jones.”

“The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don’t like Beatrice. I just like B and that’s all,” Morgan didn’t even look up as she quoted the book to herself. 

“Junie B. Jones was my favorite as a kid,” you said. 

“It’s one of her favorites, too. Given your profession— librarian, not returner of lost children— I’m assuming you're still an avid reader. What’s your favorite now?” 

"My favorite book?"

He nodded. 

“You can’t ask me that!”

“Why not?” He laughed at your outrage over the question.

“Because! How could I possibly choose? There are so many favorites you can have. A favorite for the beach. A favorite if you want to laugh, one if you want to cry. A favorite to make you think. A favorite for when you want to check out of this world. There are so many books that are my favorite for a different reason. I could never choose just one favorite.”

“Will you make me a list? Of all your favorites? I’d like to read them. Since you’re a fan of Junie B. Jones I’m assuming you have good taste in books,”he said with a self-assured grin.

Your heart grew about three sizes. No one had ever asked you for a list of all of your favorite books before. And that smile was just begging to be kissed. It was all you could do to keep from leaning forward and making heart eyes at him. You realized that you were so taken off guard that you hadn’t actually said anything in response to him. What could you say to the man with the steady blue eyes that crinkled in the corners when he smiled and who asked you about all of your favorite books? _Marry me?_

He quirked his head to the side in question at your lack of response, eyes filled with amusement and curiosity.

“Sorry...It’s just… people don’t normally…”

"What?"

“I mean, you asked me for a list of all my favorite books so you could read them.”

“Yeah…?”

“And I just … It … you got me … flustered,” you admitted, refusing to make eye contact. 

“All I have to do to get you to look at me like that is mention books? I’ll definitely keep that information filed away for later,” he chuckled good-naturedly. 

“Ah, yes, later, when we get those 999,999 other burgers you owe me.”

“That’s a lot of burgers,” he said. 

“Hey, you’re the one who said a million, not me.” 

“Would you allow me to exchange a couple thousand of those burgers for a nice dinner?”

“I’ll allow it. But even at an exchange rate of 5,000 burgers a dinner that’s still a lot of dinners.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t mind taking you out to dinner 200 times, but maybe I can make you breakfast the morning after some of those dates for an extra ten thousand?”

You were surprised by his forwardness, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You wanted to see where this went. 

You pretended to be unimpressed by his offer. “I don’t know…”

“I’ll bring you breakfast in bed, and then I’ll read to you. Any book you want.” 

If Steve’s smile spelled trouble, then Bucky’s cocky grin would be the end of you. 

“If you do that _once_ , you can consider your debt repaid.”

“Dinner tonight, then? Breakfast tomorrow?”

You put on your best southern belle voice: “I know that you are _The_ Winter Soldier and all, but I am still a lady!” You played up the scandalized tone, making it a joke, but you actually were shocked at how eager he was. Was he really trying to sleep with you tonight?

He blushed a little. This entire lunch had just been you two taking turns making the other blush. He was suddenly sincere. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I was just—”

“Do you expect every girl to put out on the first date?” you joked lightly, letting him know it was OK.

“Well, technically, dinner tonight would be our _second_ date…”

You shoved him. “ _James_!”

“Considering what we’re talking about doing I think you can call me Bucky now.”

“Gee, thanks. _Bucky_.”

“Really, I didn’t mean to offend. I just want to repay my debt to you as quickly as possible,” he might have been successful in achieving a sincere tone if he wasn’t grinning so much. “Starting with dinner tonight.

“As much as I appreciate the fiscal responsibility, I already have a date tonight,” you said, realizing that you probably should have brought up Steve earlier because then you wouldn’t be in this mess. In a few hours you would be going out to dinner with Steve and yet here you were, practically scheduling a dick appointment with his best friend. 

Even though you had zero dating experience, this felt like crossing a line. What if they were roommates? If Steve took you home tonight, would you run into Bucky and have the most awkward exchange ever? _Maybe Bucky can bring me breakfast tomorrow morning after all_ , you thought wryly. 

“Well here I was, hoping I was special,” he tried to bring joking back into his tone and was 70% successful.

“You are special,” you said matter-of-factly, making him look away and blush. 

His voice was low, a little needy when he said, “Prove it. Forget your date. Go to dinner with me tonight.”

You were tempted to do just that. If your date tonight was anyone else you probably would ditch them for Bucky. The way that he was looking at you right now made you want to do anything he asked. 

Before you could respond to Bucky's invitation, Morgan re-joined the conversation. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said. 

You were relieved that she had bought you a little bit of time to think. You took her to the bathroom and tried your best to clean up the stains on her clothes, to little avail. Dabbing at her shirt distractedly with a wet paper towel, you tried to come up with a solution, but your brain failed you. 

_I can’t date best friends. That’s against best friend code, right? Maybe one date each, just to see? What are the chances they never find out that you went on a date with the other? Probably pretty slim considering Bucky’s installed payment plan._

When you got back to the table, Bucky had cleaned everything up and was typing at his phone. He escorted the two of you outside, where a black car was pulling up to the curb. A man in a suit appeared, hugged Morgan, chastised Bucky for the ketchup and mustard stains, and then got back in the car and drove off. You looked at Bucky questioningly.

“I wanted the chance to talk to you alone, plead my case.”

You laughed and nodded. He offered you his arm and you took it, the two of you walking slowly down the sidewalk. 

“Alright, Bucky— what do you have to present to the court?”

He laughed. “I was kinda hoping that I could just say ‘books’ and you’d agree to ditch the other guy,” he said. 

You laughed. _If only it were that easy._ “There’s something I should probably tell you.”

“Please don’t be HYDRA,” he murmured under his breath.

You laughed, relieved that it wasn’t _that_ bad. “No, it’s just...my date tonight...he…”

“He what? You’re killing me.”

“My date tonight is… someone you know…”

“Okay. Who?”

“I promise you this was completely unintentional but this person may also happen to be your best friend,” you said quickly.

He abruptly stopped walking and looked at you

“Steve?!!” 

You shrugged with a nervous smile. You wanted to evaporate on the spot. Bucky slowly started walking again, processing the information. 

“I wasn't sure if I should tell you at first and then before I knew it we were getting more flirty. I met him the other day on my way to the bookstore and—” 

“Of course! _You’re_ bookstore babe!”

“Bookstore what?”

“He didn’t want to tell us too many details until he had taken you out on a proper date, so Sam nicknamed you bookstore babe,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm really sorry about this. I’m not trying to play games or anything.” 

“It’s OK.I know,” he said, pulling out his phone and sending a quick text before returning it to his pocket. 

He didn’t say anything further and you felt compelled to keep explaining yourself. You babbled, “I've been single my whole life and in the span of two days two best friends ask me out because, apparently, my life is a cosmic joke.” 

"Well if your life is a cosmic joke then mine is a cosmic comedy special. And I’m not surprised that you're the girl Steve's into. If I had to ask a girl out for the first time in 100 years, I’d pick you too.”

You smiled at him, grateful that he was being so nice. A car pulled up to the sidewalk and Bucky stopped beside it, opening the door for you to get in. 

“Let’s get this sorted out,” he said. 

“Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna go to Avengers Tower. I cannot _wait_ to see Steve’s face when he finds out.”


	3. Meet Your Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how you got yourself into this mess— back-to-back dates with best friends— but you suppose there are worse predicaments to be in.

“We’re gonna go to Avengers Tower. I cannot WAIT to see Steve’s face when he finds out.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you hesitated. You would die of awkwardness if you had to navigate this conversation with the two of them. “Maybe you should talk to Steve by yourself?”

“You don’t have anything to be afraid of.” His eyes were sincere, kind. You decided to trust him. You got into the car and he followed. The car began to drive you towards your doom, and you tried not to get too anxious. 

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said. “We’re all adults here. We’ll figure it out. I bet Steve will laugh, seriously.”

“Fine. But if he doesn’t laugh I’m adding an extra 50,000 burgers to your tab.” 

He shook your hand. “Deal.” 

You arrived at your destination way too quickly and reluctantly followed Bucky inside. As you rode the elevator, he explained that he and Steve lived on the same floor, with apartments at either end of the hallway. As you got closer and closer to the moment of truth you were practically shaking with nerves.

“Just think of your favorite book for calming down. Which is…?”

“ _salt._ ”

“Think of _salt._ and _breathe_ , ok?”

You nodded, but your heart went right to your throat when the elevator dinged. After a short trip down the hallway you were presumably in front of Steve’s door. Bucky put a finger to his lips to shush you and directed you to stand behind him as he knocked.

You saw the door open and Steve greeted Bucky with a hug, which is when he saw you. 

“Surprise!” Bucky said.

Steve immediately hugged you. “Amy! Hi! What are you doing here? Is this guy bothering you?” He smiled good naturedly while pointing at his best friend.

You were too nervous to say anything, alarming Steve, who looked to Bucky for an explanation. “Why don’t we all sit down," Bucky suggested, leading you into the living room.

When you were all sitting, you and Bucky looked at each other, each willing the other to speak.

“You know, Steve, I met the most amazing girl today. I tried to ask her out for dinner tonight but she said that she already had plans with you,” Bucky said.

Steve looked at you in shock. Bucky continued.

"I met Amy on the train today and we really hit it off. I would like to take her out as well."

Steve looked between the two of you in disbelief.

“He’s not laughing,” you said to Bucky. 

It was at this moment you wished you hadn’t spent your childhood inside reading books. You should have gone outside and played more. Maybe you would’ve stumbled across a vat of radioactive waste to play in and in this moment, twenty years later, your powers of invisibility would miraculously appear and allow you to slowly fade out of this situation. 

“Yeah, just add it to my tab,” he said. 

“What..?” Steve seemed unsure of the question he was asking. 

"I told her you wouldn't mind a little friendly competition, Steve. One date each should be enough for her to know I'm the right choice."

Steve rolled his eyes at his friend before turning to you. "Amy?" You finally looked into his eyes, which were searching you. "What do you want?"

"I don't know! I like both of y'all but you’re best friends and I don’t want to get in the way of that.” 

“Don’t worry. If you’re comfortable with going forward then we can take it slow, and I—we—will respect any decision you make, whether it’s one of us or neither of us—” 

“Or both of us," Bucky interjected with a cheeky smile. You knew he was joking, but if this was a multiple choice question you might be tempted to answer: “C. All of the above.” You made eye contact with Steve and you both rolled your eyes at Bucky’s joke. 

"Okay. Let's do this,"you said. 

“So, we're still on for dinner tonight? It sounds like I’ve got to step my game up,” Steve said. 

“Of course. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7,” he said.

"And you can text me later tonight once your boring date is over. We can get drinks. I'll make you breakfast tomorrow?" Bucky said. 

"You might need to reschedule, Buck. After tonight’s _fantastic_ date _I'll_ be cooking her breakfast tomorrow."

“No you won’t, I-”

"Hi! Boys! Remember me? The girl you're fighting over? I'm actually right here and therefore don't need to be talked about in the third person. Also if you’re taking breakfast orders I prefer waffles to pancakes, bacon to sausage, and really like fresh-squeezed orange juice.” 

“How do you feel about cereal? Raisin Bran is Steve’s specialty.” 

You laughed as Steve shot Bucky a look. 

“This might be more in keeping with your image of librarians, Steve, but I actually like Raisin Bran.”

Now Bucky looked upset and Steve looked elated. “It _is_ an excellent source of fiber,” Steve said. “But for the record, I can and _will_ make you a hot breakfast.” 

“It’s ok, Steve. No need to lie. Not even you can be good at everything,” you teased him. The three of you laughed, and you felt really at ease for the first time. Somehow, some way, it felt like things would work out between the three of you. 

"Alright, well I guess I'd better go get ready."

They walked you into the hallway and directed FRIDAY to take you back to the parking garage, where a car would be waiting to take you home.

You waved after you got into the elevator, and as the doors closed you could overhear their conversation:

“I cannot believe you stole my girl!” Steve whined.

“Hey, you were the one who told me to give trains another chance.”

“For environmental reasons!”

You laughed to yourself as the doors closed and the elevator descended, still not fully believing how insane your life was. You couldn’t wait to give Liv this update! 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the very first installment of The Adventures of Amy! Make sure to check me out on tumblr, instagram, and twitter with the same username (girlygirl14534) for extra content!


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